Shattered
by WrittenPostMortem
Summary: They thought it was over. They thought Rocky was gone, and that it was all over. But the mystery continues to grow, and the story expands. The pieces begin to fall into place, but something isn't adding up. And the question remains inside everybody's mind is, who is Raquel Blue? Part two of the Shudder Trilogy.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One of _Shattered_**

* * *

"Babe, it's been three months. You can't keep doing this to yourself," Deuce said, walking into the bedroom to see his girlfriend staring at a picture of Rocky and herself on her laptop. She paid him no mind, moving on to the next picture of Rocky and Gunther standing in front of the Hessenheffers' house in the old country.

Deuce climbed in bed next to the redhead, pulling her close to him. "Ce, please, I know you miss her. And even if you deny, you miss him too, but staring at old pictures isn't cathartic,"

"I should have gone on that trip with them, to the old country," She whispered, running her fingers over the picture of her lost friends. "I should've gone with her, we could've had more memories together. But I had to stay behind for that big shoe sale, didn't I?"

"Ce, Rocky went with them because she wanted to see what their culture was like up close, and it's not like you two didn't have thousands of other great memories together. What about that time when you and her won over Japan?"

Cece smiled, remembering it well. Her smile fell away though when she remembered what happened before that. "Yeah, and we also had a big fight that started because she wanted to take in the culture, and I wanted to be a star,"

Deuce chuckled, playing with a strand of sun kissed red hair. He tugged on it a bit, making Cece scowl at him playfully. He took it and put it over his lip, pouting his lips. "How good do I look with a moustache?"

"You would look good without any hair at all," She kissed his cheek, giggling. "But, seriously, where is Gunther? Shouldn't he realize that Tinka needs him?"

"I don't know, but give it time, he'll come back,"

"Promise?" She whispered, avoiding his gaze.

"Promise, Gertrude,"

"Really? Because I can't lose him too, and I don't even like him that much. Imagine what it must be like for Tinka, his damn sister. Doesn't he realize what he's doing to us? I've already lost her, and Flynn, I can't lose Glitter for Brains too," She buried her head in his chest, inhaling his scent.

"I'm sure that he knows that, and that he's just taking some time for himself. Please stop worrying," He pulled her back, hooking a finger under her chin, and brought her face to his.

Their lips met, and she instantly wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands toying with his hair. He brought her onto his lap, his hands cupping her rear. He smiled into the kiss when she let out a small moan.

He broke the kiss, and smirked at her pout. Cece gasped when she realized her bra was unhooked. Deuce just brought her into another kiss.

* * *

"Hey," Tinka looked up from her couch to see her boyfriend walking towards her with a chocolate cake in his hands. A smile broke out on her face as he took a seat next to her, placing the cake on the coffee table.

"You didn't have to do this, Ty," She said, even as she took a plastic fork from him.

"Hey, nothing's too much for my girl," Ty answered, popping his collar.

"Got it free?" She giggled at his flat 'yeah', and broke into the cake. She smiled as she popped it in her mouth, a bit of icing staining her lips.

Ty dug in as well, getting as much cake as he could onto the flumsy plasticware. He shoveled it into his open mouth, letting the excess fall onto the couch. Tinka glared at him, though her icing caked face ruined the effect.

"So, how's rehab?" His question was muffled as he shoved more cake into his mouth.

"Good, doc says I'll be all better in about another month. After that, I'll be ready for a marathon," Tinka smiled, her chocolate covered teeth showing. Ty chuckled, pointing at her teeth. "Oh shut up, Rocky wouldn't mock me,"

The mention of his sister made Ty suddenly sick to his stomach. He put down his fork as silence fell on them. They looked away from each others' eyes awkwardly. Neither wanted to admit it, that they felt guilty of her death.

He should've protected her; she should've protected her.

Those thoughts lingered in the back of their minds, never really going away and spreading, thickening, infecting the rest of their mind when they were given a moment of silence. It was a disease, a guilty disease, and it hurt.

"She- I- She was my sister," Ty stood up, the crumbs falling from his lap. He didn't look at Tinka, didn't say anything more, just stood. He walked from the couch, his arms swinging limply at his side.

She heard the door open and close, without a goodbye.

"I'm so stupid,"

* * *

Cece arrived at school the next day, her hair put up lazily in a bun and a downcast look on her face.

She caught sight of a large poster of Rocky at the end of the hall with candles at the bottom. All the students were gathered around it, some shedding tears and others with indifferent looks. The redhead saw the mathletes sobbing in the corner, holding onto one another and weeping out her friend's name.

"At least some people are genuinely upset," Cece jumped at the voice in her ear, spinning around to see that no one was standing near her.

Shaking her head, she turned back around, and began walking towards the memorial the school had put together at the last second. Cece stood to the side, able to see everyone who had come to pay their respects.

"You'd think there would have been something better for the best student, huh?" She didn't need to turn to know it was Frankie standing behind her.

"Yeah, well, it's more than you'd ever get," She muttered.

"Now, why you gotta be like that Red? We used to get along so well," The smirk was evident in his voice, even if she saw a blank expression from the corner of her eye.

"Yeah, until you helped my best friend be something she's not," Cece shot, turning around to face him. His eyes glowed, and his once blank face twisted into the smirk he spoke with.

"Now, are you really one to talk about making Rock something she wasn't? At least I only assisted. I mean, it's not like I had her hypnotized to do my bidding, now is it?" Frankie sneered, his eyes flickering at the sight of the shocked expression on the redhead's face.

She lowered her eyes, not wanting to catch his sneering gaze. "How do you know about that?" Cece whispered, trying her best to avoid attention.

"Oh, Red, don't you know? Rocky and I, we got real close on that trip to the old country," Frankie said in her ear, his voice husky and deliberately low. He straightened up, fixed his jacket, and walked over to the mathletes.

"What was that about?" Cece jumped at the voice, cursing herself mentally for being startling twice.

Deuce laughed at his girlfriend's reaction, wrapping his arms around her small waist. Her body immediately fell into his, an automatic reaction to his touch. He toyed with loose hair falling out of her bun, inhaling the scent of strawberries. His mind carried off to what Gunther used to tell him about Rocky's hair. Neither of them figured out what it was, though.

"Nothing, just Frankie paying his respects in his usual Frankie way," Cece sighed, nuzzling into Deuce's neck.

"Yeah, well, can you blame them? Rocky and him were really close after that trip to the old country. Like, border-line besties," He chuckled, not noticing the look of surprise on the redhead's face.

"What are you talking about? Rocky is not border-line besties with The Complication! They could never be in the same room as each other unless Rocky's telling him that two plus two is not five!" Cece spun around, pointing an accusing finger behind in the direction of Frankie.

"Whoa, Ce, calm down," He grabbed her shoulders, in a gesture to keep her controlled. "Why is so impossible for Rocky to have been close friends with Frankie?" Deuce intentionally failed to point out that she kept using present tense when talking about Rocky.

"Don't you think she'd tell me about her friendship with Frankie?" Cece crossed her arms, her eyebrow raised.

"Maybe, maybe, she just thought you wouldn't approve. You know, ever since you and Frankie broke up, you two are always fighting around each other, so I guess she didn't want to cause any more fights,"

"Well, she should stop being a whore, and tell the truth," Cece spat.

The crowd gathered around the memorial ceased all noise, their attention being drawn to the scene. The loud smack! had caught their ears, and they all stood with wide eyes. Tinka's hand was still raised, and Cece's head was snapped to the side.

"You never, ever! Speak ill of the dead!" The blonde spat on the redhead's reddened cheek before stomping off, her black heels clanking against the school's tile floor.

"What the hell is her problem? And when did she become apart of the conversation?" Cece yelled, turning to Deuce who stood shocked.

"I have to go," He whispered, turning and walking away from his girlfriend.

"Deuce?"

* * *

Deuce sat on one of the benches outside the school, his head in his hands. He sighed, thinking about what had just happened.

"Why can't she grieve like everybody else?" He muttered, sitting up.

His hands fell to his sides, his fingers brushing against something. Deuce looked down to see an envelope with his name written on it.

His eyebrows scrunched together at the handwriting, finding it really familiar. He picked it up, flipping it over to the flap. It was open, and he took out the contents.

The envelope and papers fell out of his hands, falling to the ground.

His eyes closed as he brought the picture to his chest, his breathing labored. His dark eyes opened again as her brought the picture to his face.

"Oh, Rocky, what have you done?"

* * *

"Hey, babe," Ty whispered, taking a seat next to Tinka in the library.

"Shh, I'm studying," The blonde hissed, turning the page in her history book.

Ty chuckled, grabbing one of her note sheets and reading it over. "Really, sweetie, you're writing a thesis on the impact of international war on smaller countries of the lesser known regions?"

"You," She started, taking the paper back from him. "Obviously have never seen the old country after even the threat of war,"

She turned the page again, two envelopes falling out with their names on them. They shared a look when they noticed the handwriting, their hearts beating faster. Tinka reached for hers, handing Ty his own, and together they opened them.

"No!" Tinka dropped hers, throwing herself into Ty's chest. Ty sat stock still, staring intently at what they had just found. His mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but nothing came out.

"There's no, there's no way, this is real," He whispered, staring at the picture.

"Ty, what did we do?"

* * *

Cece leaned against her locker, her head throbbing from banging her head repeatedly against the wall. She toyed with a loose strand of hair, thinking about what she had said.

Her head lolled to the side, her eyes falling upon the memorial for Rocky. "I'm sorry,"

Cece pushed herself off the locker, spinning on her heel. After briefly singing her combination song, she opened it. Her locker door swung open, the flash of her mirror getting in her eye.

"I think this the only time in my life that I wish I didn't have a mirror," She muttered to herself, digging through her disorganized locker to find her book.

"Well, too bad the rest of us are stuck looking at you anyway," Cece jumped at the voice, cursing under her breath when she recognized it.

"What now, Frankie?" She hissed, not turning around to look him in the eye.

"Just wondering if you got an envelope, or an STD, not sure which one you'd get first," Frankie laughed, holding an envelope with his name written neatly on it in front of her eyes.

He brought it back to him before she could snatch it out of his hands. "Frankie, do you know who's handwriting that is?"

"Of course, we were such close friends after all," He chuckled, stepping back.

Cece sighed, finding her book and yanking it out. She stumbled, the book falling open and something falling out.

"Aw, there it is," She heard Frankie behind her, the smirk in his voice.

The redhead saw that the handwriting was the same as the one on Frankie's, and her heart pace quickened. She nearly ripped it open, and fell back when she saw what was inside. Her skin paled, and her mouth went dry.

"Ain't that just a darling reaction," She spun around and lunged at Frankie, knocking him to the ground.

She clawed at his face, pulled at his hair while she yelled obscenities at him. Before she was able to do much damage, however, Frankie grabbed hold of her small arms and flung her off him.

"Now I remember why we were together," He spat. "You were always so feisty," He touched a thin, long scratch on his left cheek, feeling a bit of blood. He waved it off, walking away while Cece attempted to gather herself.

"This isn't over Frankie, you and I both know that!" She yelled after him, pushing her free falling hair out of her face.

"Of course not. It ain't over 'til the victim comes back from the dead and the redhead is hanging from a tree,"

Frankie disappeared around the corner, his footsteps fading off.

Cece's head fell, tears following suit. She shook her head, all her hair falling loose. Her voice faltered, breaking.

"Rocky, what the hell are you doing to us?"

* * *

**Well, here you have it. The beginning of _Shattered._**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two of _Shattered_**

"Does anybody know what this means?" Tinka asked, grabbing the envelopes and dropping them onto the table.

"Yeah, it means I can finally have an orgy with two foreigners, a dude with all eyebrows, lost in the shadow of his sister cool guy, a feisty little redhead who can't spell Pittsburgh, and a girl who may or may not be dead," Frankie answered, biting into an apple with an audible crunch.

Cece shot him a glare. "Shut the hell up, Frances." Frankie held up his hands in mock surrender.

"Guys this isn't the time to fight," Deuce spoke up, taking a seat between the quarreling two.

"It means," Ty said, sending everyone else a look to keep quiet. "That either Rocky's alive, or Gunther has a sick sense of humor,"

"But why would Rocky fake her death? And how? I was with her the entire time, so it's not like she had a chance," Tinka pondered, taking a drink of water.

"How do we know that she didn't plan this earlier. I mean, who's to say that they didn't form an alliance when they kidnapped her, or that they didn't find her in the hospital, or maybe she had been in on it the entire time," Frankie smirked, enjoying their reactions.

"Frankie, just stay quiet, please," Tinka whispered, looking down at her lap. Her leg was aching, but it felt good at the moment.

"I'm just saying, maybe Rocky thought, 'hey, here's the ultimate plan to get out of Cece's clutches and not worry about her finding me.' Who knows?" Frankie shrugged, taking out his phone. He checked something, doing a double take on it, before standing up and heading for the door

Cece followed him with her eyes, a suspicious look in her eyes. "Where are you going?"

"I've got a hot date with a dead girl," He snarked, slamming the door after him.

"I can totally see why you would date him, Ce," Ty said, glaring at the door as if Frankie was still standing there.

"Well, as you can see, I've upgraded," The redhead said, patting Deuce's shoulder and snuggling into him.

His arm instinctively wrapped around her shoulders, bringing her closer to his body. Cece sighed, feeling that something was wrong about the contact. She brushed it off, though, thinking the stress was getting to her.

"So, the question is, who sent us those pictures?"

* * *

Georgia came home to a relatively clean house, which shocked her for the most part.

"Those little demons are on to something, I know it," She muttered to herself, plopping onto the couch.

The TV was on, showing a group of twenty-somethings drinking and eating pickles. She groaned, wondering how this kind of thing was allowed on TV. Turning the television off, she relaxed into the couch, putting her feet up on the table.

"And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why bubble baths were invented," She slurred, getting up from her comfortable position. Georgia headed to the bathroom, slipping off her work shoes as she did.

The bathroom was clean as well, but she waved it off. Mrs. Jones turned on the bath, letting the room steam up from the gush of hot water.

"Gonna have me a bubble bath, gonna have me a bubble bath, gonna have me a bubble bath," Georgia sung to herself, squirting the bubble bath into the water and watching the bubbly foam form. Her smile grew as the water rose.

She began to undress, relaxation growing with each piece of removed garment. The medicine cabinet mirror was fogged up already; she opened it to get her bath salts when a large manilla envelope fell out and into the sink. Her name was written neatly on it, underlined three times.

"What in the?" Georgia took the envelope, and slowly opened, fearing the contents to a degree.

She emptied the contents into the sink, and immediately her brow furrowed.

There were several pictures, stamped with dates and times. Most of them were large, some regular size. Either way, what they displayed were what put Georgia into a bad mood.

She shut off the water, muttering about wasting a perfectly good bubble bath.

* * *

"Ty, we need to talk," Tinka said hesitantly to her mirror. She had been practicing the conversation for over an hour, and she just couldn't seem to get right.

"So, as you know I'm from another country- No, that's stupid and essay-ish," She shook her head, trying to get her thoughts and words to correspond with one another.

"Okay, well lately I've been thinking about, well, everything. And with Gunther gone, and all the creepy things that have been happening. It's just, I feel like my home country is calling me or something of that nature. Dammit, why can't I get this right?" The blonde knocked her head, as if to get the thoughts out.

"You wanna go back to the old country," She spun around at the voice, seeing the one person she wished to be there and to be far away from at the same time.

"Ty, um, well I guess there's no need to ask how long you've been there. You obviously heard everything," Tinka hung her head, her hands fidgeting.

"Tinka, look, I get it. You're upset, with everything," He walked towards her, bringing her into a hug.

Stroking her hair and inhaling her scent, he brought his voice to a whisper. "I'll go with you,"

She smiled at the gesture, the tears that had been pricking her eyes falling out and landing on his shirt.

"You're so lovely when you cry over me. But, Tinka, come on. We both know I'm friggin' whipped," She giggled at his tone.

"Now, there's something I need to ask of you, my love," Tinka stepped back out of Ty's grasp, wiping away her tears.

"Yes, darling?"

She stepped over to her closet, opening the large door. "What am I going to where to the airport?"

* * *

"Mom, I'm home!" Cece's voice was accompanied by the door closing behind her.

She fell onto the chair, letting out a sigh of relief. Kicking her shoes off, she thought to herself how beauty was pain.

Georgia came into the living room, a scowl on her face.

"Whoa, Mom, don't worry. I'll pick my shoes up in a minute," The redhead joked, wanting nothing more for the mood to lighten. Her day had been stressful enough as it was.

"Cecelia, would you mine explaining these?" Mrs. Jones dropped the manilla envelope into her daughter's lap, her tone warning the younger girl that now was not the time for joking.

Slowly, without taking her eyes off her mom, Cece opened the envelope and pulled out what was inside. Her eyes widened when she looked over the pictures, her mouth falling open.

"Mom, I can explain!" Georgia gave her a look. "I can't explain. Where did you get these?"

"Where I got them is not the issue at hand. Now, explain yourself,"

"Why are you getting so upset with me? Mom, they had Rocky's memorial today, I can't do this with you right now," Cece stood up, intending to walk past her mom and into her bedroom.

Georgia grabbed her daughter's arm as she tried to pass. Giving her a slight push onto the chair, she scolded the redhead. "Cece, honestly? Using Rocky's memorial to get out of punishment? Do you have any remorse or does it just come and go whenever it works for you?"

"Mom, how could you think I'm using Rocky like that?"

"Because you are! Ever since Rocky died, it seems like you suddenly have an excuse for everything. Can't do your homework, you're grieving. Can't go to gym class, you're grieving. Can't do the dishes, you're grieving. When are you going to grow up?"

Cece's brow furrowed, tired of the accusations. "Excuse me? You see pictures of me partying and you decide to use Rocky against me?"

"No, I see pictures of you partying and drinking on nights you were supposedly out with Rocky or Deuce or somebody! And then I hear over and over again about how you can't do anything because it's too hard with Rocky's death. Didn't seem to stop you from helping Shake It Up! find a new host, now did it?" Mrs. Jones complied herself, closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths. "Cecelia, go to your room. From this moment on, you're grounded. No ifs, ands, or buts, now go,"

Cece reluctantly got up and trudged to her room, her head hung. Georgia waited until she heard the door shut and lock before letting out her breath.

She fell onto the couch, letting it conform around her body. "What is going on these days?"

* * *

"Wait, what happened?"

Cece blew her hair out of her eyes, falling back onto her bed. "Somehow, she found a bunch of pictures of me at parties on nights I said I was somewhere else. Some of them even showed me drinking! Who could've done this?" She complained, playing with the fabric of her comforter.

"Well, there's one person," She heard the hesitation in Deuce's voice, and the idea went through her head as well.

"Deuce, she would never do this to me. Not ever. It must've been Frankie. He was at all those parties, too, and he would love the chance to get me in trouble," Cece growled at the thought of 'The Complication,' still not quite understanding why she used to be so drawn to him.

"Okay, okay, so it's not Rocky. But maybe Frankie had a reason for why he did it," His tone was slow, like he knew what he was saying was going to upset her.

"What do you mean? What could I have done that you agree to me being grounded?" Her voice was half-screech, hinting to her rising anger.

She heard him take a few breaths, like he was preparing himself more than he was preparing her. "Ce, I love you with everything, but you've been a complete bitch,"

Cece's breath caught at the harsh words. She knew that Deuce would tell when she got out of control, he had proved that during the Marcus fiasco. But for him to tell outright, without a lecture, it was new.

"Excuse me? What the hell do you mean I've been a bitch? My best friend in the whole world died, and my own boyfriend wants to call me a bitch?" Her voice had been raised to full screech at this point.

"See? There you go again! Justifying everything you do wrong with Rocky's death. We all lost her that day, Cece! Hell, we don't even know if we truly lost her now. But you are the only one who seems to think that you can get away with murder and blame it on her. We all know that you're one and true best friend is Cece Jones. And I'm done," He hung up before she could get a word in, his tone telling her not to call back.

Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to cry. She had cried enough in the past few months. Over Rocky, over herself, over everything that had happened. She even cried when they found out Gunther was gone.

She sat up, her eyes immediately falling on a framed photo of her and Rocky, hugging one another and smiling.

"You bitch,"

* * *

"Martin, Ty's home!" Deuce looked up from his work to see Ty walk into his room, a blank look on his face.

"Yo, what's up?" The expressionless look slightly scared Deuce, but told himself that it was probably nothing serious.

"Deuce, man, there's something I have to tell you," The older boy's tone brought Deuce's worry back up, making him fear what he was about to hear.

"Please tell me that no one else knows about my man-scaping. No one else is willing to go near them!" The Cuban's attempt at a joke didn't quite work as well as he hoped it would.

Ty sighed, realizing just how hard this was going to actually be. He had played it out in his head dozens of times, but now that he was actually doing it, it seemed off.

"You know how Tinka has been feeling a bit under lately?" Deuce nodded, not quite seeing where Ty was going. "Well, apparently she's been homesick and wants to go back to the old country,"

Deuce let out a breath of relief at the words. He was upset that Tinka was leaving for however long, but he had feared for the worse. "Whoa, man, I was worried for a minute there. I mean, yeah, I'm gonna miss Tinkabell, but you know what I'm trying to say, dude," Deuce looked back down at his work, trying to figure out when they put letters in math.

"And, well, I kind of promised her that I would go with her," Ty winced when Deuce broke his pencil in half as soon as the words left his mouth.

"You what? You're gonna leave when all this is going down? Rocky might be alive out there somewhere, and everyone wants to leave? Gunther's somewhere grieving, you and Tinka decide to take a vacation, Cece's grounded,"

"Wait, Cece's grounded? What happened?" Ty interrupted, holding his hands up.

"Ma found some pictures of her partying, drinking, and stuff like that. Ce thinks Frankie sent them," Deuce explained, not really thinking about it.

"Now I feel guilty about leaving you alone and shit." Ty ran his hands down his face in an attempt to calm down. "Maybe you could go with us?"

"My mom would trip, school just started and I wanna go to another country so I won't be alone. Plus, my cousin's fifteenth is coming up soon, and she'd kill me before I missed it. Then probably use my casket as a table," Deuce shivered at the thought.

"Well, it'll only be like three weeks or so, just to get it back into her system. We're gonna stay with her cousin. You know, the one Cece sent back? Turns out she did a good thing. He met a girl, and they've been together for like three years."

Deuce and Ty chuckled before letting the silence take over. Neither of them had anything to tell one another, so they hushed their voices.

The silence was broken when Deuce's mother told them dinner was ready and to wash their hands.

"Ty, there's something I have to tell you to," Deuce spoke in a hushed voice, his eyes averted.

"You're not, like, gonna grow fangs and bite me are you? Because if you make me sparkle, I'm kicking your undead ass!"

A ghost of a smile crossed Deuce's face for a moment. "Ty, I know where Rocky is. And she's not dead,"

Ty jumped up, his face contorted in rage. "What the hell man? Is this some sort of sick joke?"

Deuce sighed, knowing he was going to get this reaction. "I didn't want to tell you, but when you told me you and Tinka were leaving I had to say something. Rocky needs us here, all of us,"

"How do you know? Did you contact her spirit or something? Rocky's dead, Deuce! She's dead!" Ty yelled, holding himself back from hitting his friend.

"That's no way to talk about your little sister," Ty froze at the voice, shocked. He managed to turn around to see the person, only to be knocked down in his seat at the sight.

She opened her arms, a smile on her face. "Come over here, and give your baby sister a hug,"

* * *

**To Guest : What do you mean I've lost my scary edge? It's not my problem you all think she's a ghost. And I've just started. Were you scared in the first chapter of Shudder? If you were, oh my. But other than that, thank you.**

**Also, to everyone else who is so kind to read this, I will do my best to update much faster.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three of **_**Shattered**_

Ty squeezed his eyes shut, thinking his eyes were playing a cruel joke on him. He opened them again, half-hoping that she would have disappeared.

She had.

"Ty, what are you staring at?" Deuce asked, concerned for his friend. Ty continued to stare at the place she had stood.

He was finally able to get himself to wake up from his trance, turning to face Deuce. "What just happened?"

"I don't know, man. After Mom told us dinner was ready you just kind of zoned out. You were starting to scare me," The younger boy's eyes softened at the look of absolute confusion in Ty's eyes, like he was a scared little boy lost in an amusement park. It was a frightening sight.

"I- I saw her, Deuce. I saw her!" Ty muttered, staring into the Cuban's eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Deuce asked, his fear rising with each passing second.

"I saw Rocky. She spoke to me, telling me she was alive. She asked me for a hug, like nothing was wrong. I saw her, Deuce, I really saw her!" Ty was visibly shook, as if something horrifying was playing out in his head. His eyes widened, and he began to sweat. "I gotta go. Tell Tinka that I have to cancel that trip, or something. Don't wait up too late," Ty said, grabbing his jacket, stumbling over his words as he scrambled out of the room.

Deuce remained in his seat, not sure what to make of what just happened. He had never seen Ty so scared, not even when Rocky and Tinka had been taken.

He tried to think of something that could possibly, reasonably explain his best friend's odd behavior, but nothing plausible came to mind. Deuce pushed the thought of another Blue family secret, not wanting to go down that road again. Fearing that if they did, they'd find out something that should've remained a secret.

Shaking his head, he looked for his phone. He found it under his dirty laundry that he had promised his mom he would wash. After sending Tinka a quick message about Ty, he scrolled through his contacts.

"Benny B., Benny G., Benny H., Benny L- Found ya!" He pressed the call button, putting it on speakerphone while he searched his desk drawers.

"_Hola?_"

"Aye, Uncle Benny, do you still work as a private detective?" Deuce yelled, still digging through his cluttered drawers.

_"Si,"_

"Can you do me a favor?" He waited for an answer, glad to hear his uncle say yes. "I need you to do a background run on the Blue family. Specifically, Raquel and Tyson Blue, ages sixteen and seventeen. Live right here in Chicago."

His uncle told he would do his best, before asking if everything was alright.

"Yeah, I'm doing fine. Just a lot of messed up things happening, ya know?" Hearing a tired sounding reply, Deuce thanked his uncle and hung up, having found what he had been looking for.

He took the crumpled envelope out of the drawer, laying it on his desk and attempting to smooth it out. He opened it, turning it upside down and letting the contents fall out. The accusing picture was the first his eyes fell to, but he pushed it away to pay attention to the other papers.

He unfolded them, smoothing out the creases the best he could. He recognized the handwriting immediately, his breathing increasing.

_"'Her heart was pure, his intentions clean. Both forbidden and free, feeling genuine. Make no mistake, they were in bliss. They had given each other true love's first kiss.'" _Deuce read, his eyes squinting. "What the hell are you on about? Who are you talking about, Rocky?"

His eyes glanced over to the picture again, his heart breaking at the sight of her. He frowned, seeing something odd about the picture. Picking it up, he brought it closer to his eyes.

"What the?" In the corner was a the date, written in an unfamiliar style. "1946?"

Deuce flipped the picture over, wondering if there were any clues as to the odd date. Written neatly in the same handwriting as the date, near the bottom was a name.

"Who's Jennette Kyleson?"

* * *

Cece sat in her bed, picking at the stitching of her pillow. Without a phone or laptop she was bored. She attempted to read one of the books she had received over the years, but it made her head hurt.

Having already organized her drawers and closet, finished all the homework she had let pile up, and listening to her iPod until the battery died, she was left with nothing.

"This is all Frankie's damn fault," She said to herself. She flung the pillow to the other side of the room, hitting the framed picture of Rocky and knocking it to the floor.

"Dammit," Getting up from her comfortable position, she went over to the picture. The glass had cracked, but hadn't broken completely. She frowned at the placement of the crack, right between her and Rocky's bodies.

Cece continued to stare at the picture, at the cracked glass, not noticing a tear fall and land on it. When she took notice, she was confused. She hadn't truly cried in a long time, and it confused her to a degree.

"Man up, Cecelia, you're better than this," She muttered to herself, straightening her back. However, tears continued to fall onto the picture, blurring her view.

She fell to her knees, finally succumbing to her emotions. She hugged the picture, squeezing it like it was trying to leave her.

"Why did you leave me, Rocky? You shouldn't have left me. You should be here, one floor up, getting ready to climb through my window. You're supposed to say 'hey, hey, hey' and jump into my living room. You're supposed to be lecturing me on doing my own homework, guilt tripping me into finishing it without cheating. You're supposed to be comforting me when Deuce and I have a fight. You're supposed to be dancing with me on Shake It Up! Chicago, smiling and pulling off difficult moves that took you a day to learn while I practiced all week. You're supposed to inflate my ego whenever I brag about having been chosen as the best dancer.

"You're supposed to tell me how much you admire me when I won't back down. You're supposed to be making witty remarks about my intelligence that take me a few minutes to get. You're supposed to be here. You're supposed to be_ alive_. You're supposed to be my best friend,"

Her sobbing made it hard for her to continue speaking, but she had said what needed to say. Cece knew she had been difficult for the past few months, but she didn't want to believe it. To her, demonizing and rejecting her once best friend was the only way she could cope.

She couldn't cry for a week straight like Tinka. She couldn't throw herself into her work like Deuce. She couldn't visit places Rocky had secretly wanted to go to like Ty. She couldn't design a website to remembering her like the mathletes. She couldn't disappear like Gunther.

Of course, she knew how wrong it was of her. But it made her feel better, knowing that memories couldn't plague her like they did to everyone else. Now, it just seemed petty and cruel.

Now that she had cried, and finally let out how she felt. But it wasn't going to bring Rocky back, it wasn't going to bring Mr. and Mrs. Blue back, it wasn't going to erase the scar on Tinka's leg, it wasn't going to make Gunther show up at school in a bedazzled jacket.

All it did was make her nose bleed, and make her lightheaded.

"What?" Her vision became blurry, but not because of the tears. Everything in front of her became blurred and out of focused, like someone had dirtied the camera lens.

Her body felt numb, like she had been laying a tub of ice for hours. Her nose continued to bleed, the blood falling down her face and onto her lap. Her eyelids felt heavy, and it became harder to keep them open the more she tried.

Briefly, her tired eyes fell onto her glass of water, as if it knew why she was falling unconscious. It was half-empty, but she distinctly remembered only drinking a few sips. Didn't she?

Her question went unanswered as her mind shut off, and her body fell to the floor. The framed photo fell from her grip, the crack in the middle spreading until it was near impossible to see Rocky's face anymore.

* * *

Tinka settled into bed, a glass of warm milk on her bedside table. She had spent the whole day packing, her excitement building about her coming trip.

At one point she had heard her phone vibrate, but was too invested in separating her clothes by colour to answer it. Once she had finished, she immediately jumped into the shower to rinse away the sweat she worked up. Her hair was still wet, up in a messy bun she usually tried to avoid. Her phone forgotten.

She had settled into her oversized bed, bringing her lavender comforter up to her lap as she rested against the headboard.

Nothing was on TV, even her favorite DIY clothing show wasn't on yet. She sighed, unable to wait for the newest episode. Her mind drifted to the one time she had convinced Cece to watch it with her, only for the redhead to claim it was the most idiotic thing on TV. Not that it stopped her from showing up the next day in the shirt they had been shown how to make.

Tinka half-smiled at the memory, glad she didn't only have bad memories with the redhead. But it seemed that Cece was intent on erasing all of the good memories with bad, and mostly succeeding for most of the past three months.

"That girl is all kinds of trouble," The blonde said to herself. Turning off the TV, she attempted to lay down and get some sleep for tomorrow.

Her soon slumber was interrupted at the sudden banging at her front door. She tried to ignore it, telling herself that her mom or dad would get it. Then she remembered they had gone to a wedding, and wouldn't be back until the weekend.

Sighing, she sat up and threw the covers off of her. Her feet felt around on the floor for her slippers, the fuzzy feeling tickling slightly. Her feet slipped into them, and she stood up, stretching her back. She really needed to lay down.

She trudged to the living room, her hands at her hair trying to make herself somewhat presentable. Eventually, her hair had been taken out of the bun and pulled back into a loose ponytail.

Tinka made it to her door, surprised that she hadn't bumped into anything without any of the lights on. The banging had continued throughout, the person on the other side of the door relentless.

"Just a second!" The blonde called, rolling her eyes when the person only hit her door harder. "If you break it, I'm suing you!" She half-joked, throwing the door open.

"Good luck suing a dead man," The voice seemed familiar, but Tinka couldn't make out who it was. She cursed the broken hall lights, along with her own dark apartment.

The man walked inside, without warning. Tinka glared at the form, slamming her door shut. "Do I know you? And is there a reason you're banging on my door at this hour?"

Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her foot was tapping against the floor.

"Tinka, don't you recognize me?" The voice, it was so familiar. Too familiar.

"No, it can't be," The blonde ran her hand along the wall, searching for the light switch. She heard the man's breathing, and the familiar scent of his cologne. But it was impossible. It just couldn't be. Her mind raced for possible explanations; a cruel joke, her mind playing tricks on her, a bad dream.

Her hand fell on the light switch, and she hesitated. Could this really be happening? She shook her head, her damp hair stinging her cheeks.

"Better safe than sorry," She muttered to herself. She flipped the light on, and nearly crumpled to the floor at the sight.

"Hello, Tinka,"

Her mouth fell open, and her heart nearly leaped out of her throat. She scrambled her mind to remember how to speak, but nothing came out of her open mouth.

"Gary?"


End file.
